Clothes shopping: The new extreme sport?

Given the abysmal retail figures rolling in this week, it's hard not to sympathize with the folks who make their living selling clothes. And yet those with the courage to actually go out and spend a little money—economic meltdown be damned!—are finding themselves utterly bombarded by desperate sales associates, a tactic that often ends up being self-defeating. After all, where's the fun in shopping when you practically need to put on protective gear before setting foot in a store?

Take the case of an architect friend who recently made the mistake of going to a high-end department store (out of affection for the afflicted, we've decided not to use the retailers' names) and actually buying a suit. "The sales guy was great, really helpful. Then I told him, 'I'll be back after lunch' and I go up a couple of floors," he says. "As I was waiting in line to get in the restaurant, the guy came up to me, holding 25 things over his arm that he wanted to show me." "It's like the roles are reversed," says another friend who works on Wall Street. "You used to have to fight for attention, and now they're fighting over you, making suggestions—even if they're not really welcome."

"I felt like a piece of meat being fought over by jackals," adds Justin, 26, about a recent visit to a fashionable mall outpost. "I mostly felt bad for them, and glad that I don't work in retail." Especially retail in Chicago. "I was picking up a bag for a friend of mine who was going overseas," says Yossi, 30, of a recent department store visit in the Windy City. "Immediately all these salesgirls started asking me things like "Do you need anything else? Would you like to look at any other bags? Do you have a girlfriend?... The funny thing is that I'd ridden my bike over to the store, so I was wearing my spandex, bike helmet, and cleats, and I wasnâ¿¿t even in the men's department—I was in the women's bag department!"

Brad, 30, had a similar encounter at a top-tier retailer in Phoenix when he popped in to pick up his normal supply of Jack Black shampoo. "Normally I could just walk in, get what I want, and roll out in ten minutes," he says. "This time I was getting barraged. They kept me in there like 30 minutes. One lady greeted me, then another [started trying to sell] me other products, like cologne, and then there was another woman behind the counter who was there to say nice things and also offer me stuff. I wanted to say, 'Hey, beat it.'"

Speaking of beating it, consider the case of Wesley, 38, who says a salesman in NYC "practically offered me sex if I bought the suit that I was trying on. He kept barging into the dressing room and touching me in borderline inappropriate ways, and saying things like 'It fits you so well in the crotch area,' and 'Just get undressed and I'll bring you more to try on.' I didn't know whether to feel flattered or violated." Maybe he should just feel lucky. After all, if you're an acquisitional type—and you must be or you wouldn't be reading this blog—you might as well enjoy the newfound power. Including, presumably, the power to say "No, thanks."

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